


Fruitless Sanity

by Aoi_Sensei



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Magda, Mentions of Nazi Germany, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:08:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aoi_Sensei/pseuds/Aoi_Sensei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hurting the people you love is one of the most hurtful things in life. Not only to them, but to you and the people around you. Being a master of thoughts, Charles always had the notion that he would never give in to the depths of depression. Erik, on the other hand, had always used his rage against his enemies; but now his enemy is himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sailors Get Lonely

“Old friend” Charles started, “it's been such a long time. More time than I care to remember, to be truthful.” The man breathed out a small 'heh' with a sorrow filled grin stamped to his face. His eyes were older, yes, but not as old as they could be. At least, not yet.   
    He let the words linger in the emptiness for a few moments longer before he continued. “I often wake up in the middle of the night, finding that my mind has been reaching out for you. Trying to cast a net into the vast sea in hopes of wrangling you back up with it...”   
    Charles' dulling blue eyes looked out the window, peering into the empty courtyard below. It was an attempt to root his mind, blocking the sanity from spilling out with his choked words. His mind often worked in a fathomless fashion; seeking every theory in every nook and every cranny of his cranium.  
    Minutes passed before he felt slightly calmer. The professor's shoulders slumped into a more eased position as he turned his empty gaze to the untouched chess set. Then, finally to the cold unfilled chair before him. That forced grin on his lips slowly became a sad smile, as it finally dropped to a painful frown all together.   
    “But you sank too deep.” His bitter voice trembled with his bottom lip, unwanted salty streaks running down his seemingly frost bitten cheeks. “What the hell did you have to go and do that for Erik? You fucking stupid-” His anger willed his mouth shut as he lashed out his hand violently.   
    Only the obnoxious clank of the falling chess pawns had answered his silence. His call, which he so bitterly wished was answered by that chrome lining voice. But it didn't matter, Charles knew that. It didn't matter and he was gone. Not like that night, the night they first met; Charles had dived into the depths as if he were saving kin.   
    Oh, but he was! He was saving kin. He was saving a mutant, saving Erik. But now he couldn't save Erik, couldn't dive down deep enough to tug him out. Even his mind attempted the unconscious swim every night. But Erik had already died. Had been dead for quite some time. Now there was only Magneto; and though he looked very much like Erik Lehnsherr – Erik Lehnsherr he was not.


	2. Lingering Scent of Roses

“A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” Magneto snared. He knew it that wasn't true. He knew more than anyone else. Over the years, over all of the deaths and the heartbreaks, he knew it wasn't true.   
    He wasn't as sweet or as caring as Max Eisenhardt was. The sweet little Jewish lad who had saved a young gypsy woman from certain death. By that time he had already lost his family, his mother. But poor little Max was still too innocent, he didn't understand how the world was just beginning to have it's cruel fun.  
    When Max Eisenhardt realized he could no longer be Max – when he realized he was no longer Max – he took up a new name. Erik Lehnsherr. The man who now was more of an internal conflict, not that Magneto would ever care to admit.   
    He was a man of blind justice. He knew he was doing right by hunting down Nazi war criminals. He knew he was doing right by letting Charles Xavier into his life; by helping the other younger mutants broaden their talents. Even worse, it had made Erik happy. For the first time in a long time, little Max was peeking out of the cracking shell.   
    As soon as Erik caught Max trying to climb out, the young man shoved the small boy back in, only deeper this time. That's when he decided that play time was over, that he wasn't going to get anywhere with childish dreams he had foolishly been chasing. No, he was turning his dreams into reality, he was going to do it no matter who got in his way.  
    Through all of that anger, the frustration, sadness, confusion, and guilt – somewhere along the way Erik had become Magneto. He had rammed Max back so hard that it had killed what little child he had left in him. He was shaking, a ticking time bomb that exploded.   
Citizens hurt: Charles Xavier.    
    Erik though, could have stayed on the beach, would have followed Charles to the hospital all while holding his hand and begging for forgiveness. But Erik was no longer there. It was only Magneto. Magneto who had pulled the wounded man into his lap. Magneto who cradled his shaking form as he looked down with stormy eyes, preaching his visions of the future. It was Magneto, who no longer cared in the way he should have.  
    'A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet' was bullshit. If someone called out for Erik, Max wouldn't have come. And if anyone had ever called out for Magneto, Erik would never have come running. The only thing they all have in common was a faint scent, the lingering smell of being 'old friend'.


	3. Metallic Taste

Revenge.  
Even though the word left a metallic taste in Erik's mouth, he did not care for it much. People think Erik is vengeful; but they are very wrong. He doesn't do thinks to get back at people, he does them because he things it's going to better a cause.  
    Someone had to kill Shaw, it had to be done. Who knows how many mutants were subject to him, or would be if he were still alive? That's why Erik killed him. Rage and serenity. Revenge, he could never. Because when he thinks of that word, revenge, he thinks of Charles.   
    The thought leaves him wanting to brush his teeth. It leaves him feeling a bit warm and dizzy, like a storm lies in the pit of his stomach. He would never, ever want to take revenge on Charles, If he and Charles fought, it was for a cause that was not as personal as that day on the beach..  
    Erik would never admit it, but if anything truly happened to Charles, he'd be beside himself. He would never forgive himself for Cuba. Charles. The Serenity to his rage. Oh what would he ever do without Charles?   
    What would happen if someone had killed the Professor or came close to it? He didn't know. Maybe then would the last etchings of his metal shell break, and he would crack, and thirst for revenge. The metallic taste he didn't care for much. Revenge....He'd embrace it as his world crumbles down around him. He'd hang onto it like a lifeline...  
    Then, he thinks, that Charles had changed him. Had changed his visions. He had, in fact clung to the thought of vengeance before. Erik thrived on it. But now it seems like a taboo, disgusting and disgraceful almost even.   
    If it were anyone else with him, that day on the beach, he would probably embrace the betrayed feeling like a soldering ember waiting to burst in a sea of flames. Erik could never do that when it came to Charles. Revenge was never meant for Charles. Whoever would think such things, were beyond sick. Even Erik knew that. Charles was a good person, no one should ever think of him with such a metallic taste not even a metal bender would savor.


End file.
